Purest White
by Black Ankle
Summary: A small vignette on Mio set after Fatal Frame II.


**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

Sort of set between Fatal Frame II and III

Like she'd planned the timing for this moment, the sun was glowing half past the horizon bathing the lake in a golden glow. It was beautiful. The gleaming water lay before her under the pale pink sky. Mio wasn't watching the sun's sleepy descent. Her eyes were trained on the deep dark depths of the lake where a secret lay.

This was the spot. The peaceful shoreline had once overlooked the village. She was sure of this. Just below her would have stood the gates she and her sister had passed through one dark night. The small fire next to the shrine had been almost welcome until the view opened to the village laying poised in madness below.

This place had taken everything from her. Her strength, her love, and her sister. All in one never ending night. She blamed everything for this. The dark ritual they hid, the sacrifices, and the butterflies. All had conspired to use her, even her own twin.

Her hands climbed, in a self-conscious manner, to the scarf lining her neck. Underneath the crimson butterfly continued to glow with her shame and horror. What had she done? She, who had always been the strongest, had been the one to finish the ceremony. The eldest of the two; with more will and vitality then Mayu ever had.

And yet hadn't it been she, the stronger twin, who had been pulled along like a pathetic doll? She'd tried so hard to save her sister and in the end she was the one who had been the weakest. Who could have guessed that Mayu was the one with the iron will bent around a neurotic need? Sae may have been the one pushing and pulling her sister's thoughts, but she had been all to willing to accept the ritual. To be together in death forever.

Mio's legs shook as she sat on the wooden bench just under the small tree. If her sister had cared so much she wouldn't have left her like this. What was the good of having them become one when all she felt afterward was empty? She didn't feel complete; far from it. Inside the jagged pieces of her future scrapped against her hollow bones. Without her sister by her side, she was just a half and a damaged half at that.

After she had stumbled from the village in that brilliant sunrise chasing the spirits (like so many had pursued her), she found that she was free of their constraints. It was then while she grasped the ground for strength, for _understanding_, that life continued for her in a warped pattern. Time resumed, (Had it ever stopped?) and a normal world without omens welcomed her.

But the welcome had been so short. How could she explain the unforgivable deed she had performed? The words had filled her throat and died on her tongue. For months she had remained silent for fear that if she opened her mouth to reason, the truth would rush out and she would be condemned more so than in her own eyes. They never found her sister and no amount of pleading with her would give any answers. They wouldn't find her anyway. Her body joined so many others in that dark depth under the god tree.

Her unclerescued her from the infirmary. Mio never noticed the stark white walls or the pungent smell of disinfectants. There was only Mayu's dark eyes filled with longing and peace, even as the blood vessels had burst bruising the pristine white. She could still smell the dank cave and the sharp violence of the pit. The combined smell was like nothing she could name.

From the hospital to Kei's home; she still hated the hours between the dark of night and fall of morning. Shadows had her cringing in fear of what they would bring her. Hours were spent huddling next to a small lamp, her hands groping for a missing camera.

It was her uncle who reached through the darkness for her. His kindness and soft spoken caring were so like Mayu, that Mio had latched onto him with a suddenness that scared both of them. Kei wasn't her twin, and in time she found he was nothing like her weak (_strong_) sister. But he was there and he was warm and wanted so much for her to climb out of herself. And she tried so hard for him and for her. Even for her sister whom she hated and loved with equal fervor.

Life slide by like pages in an old tome. One evening staring at the dusk skyline, Mio found she wanted to talk about her sister. She told Kei how much she missed Mayu and what it felt like to be the remaining half of a pair. Even though the words flowed from her, she found that they did not come with ease. She never spoke of _All God's Village_or of the bruise that just would not leave her neck.

But Kei was curious, she could see that. His passion was folktales and half-true legends. To better help his niecehe dived deeper into history and hidden truths-if only to help himself understand what had happened to her. Mio loved him for his compassion but she balked him at every chance presented to her. Any secrets Kei was looking for were gone forever in those cold depths and the only one who held the answers wouldn't share. In her selfishness, Mio was protecting her unclefrom a place that only knew death and pain. And her memories were growing dull as the fear lessoned. It was harder and harder to recall the nameless faces chasing her in the village. Mio started to believe that with time she could forget about the angry spirits and the ritual.

Then one morning she'd awoken to find her hair was slowly turning white. Kei was shocked at the snowy bangs framing her face. Underneath the hurt gaze of her mirrored twin, Mio had known this would happen. As she gently touched the mirror and met her own hand in a sheet of glass, she thought of another whose hair had been pure white. Surrounded by iron bars and the ever growing dark of the malice, his hair had reflected the scarlet glow of the burning butterflies and turned blood red.

Sitting before the lake watching the waves lap gently against the shore, her bangs blew across eyes. She thought of her sister who's face she saw every time she looked in the mirror or simply closed her eyes. Of the last night they spent together and the feel of her tender flesh beneath her fingertips. She had strove to save her other half and failed. The village was at peace but her mind was shattered. There would be no peace for her. Not until she found another crimson butterfly and found a way back to being whole again.


End file.
